David Wakeling

We are the tortured.

We are the helpless, tortured by the blazing Sun,
Tormented by the rain that floods the land,
Persecuted by pain forever knocking at the door,
Every time we walk there is a tight rope
Stretched between the ordinary and fear of the unknown.

Each day we tackle the impenetrable snow ,
Starvation, Crime and War,
The estrangement of men and women.
A coupling that destroys the soul of both parties.

The unwanted child tortured by a lonely mother,
We want knowing we will never receive.
Wanting is a torture because we always want more.

And in the end Death is racing towards us with a knife in his hand.